


Love's Void I'm finishing writing it all then I'll post everything once

by JasmineGreen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesia, Azkaban, Blood Magic, Canon Divergence, Cassius Warrington - Freeform, Conspiracy, Dark Magic, Dark!Harry, Different Tri-Wizard Tournament, Goblet of Fire AU, Horcruxes, M/M, Memory Loss, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5359193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasmineGreen/pseuds/JasmineGreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter forgets <em>everything</em>. He barges in Hogwarts, gathering every pair of eyes to a Dark Mark he bears. Between arising both suspicion and awe, the Boy-Who-Lived must survive a tournament as the Hogwarts Champion he never asked to be, while uncovering the secrets which may save the Wizarding World from the Darkest Wizard from All Ages. Or not.</p><p>I'm rewritting it all, then posting it all at once.<br/>As of this month (March 2018) I've all scenes from the beginning to the ending written out. Currently I'm fleshing the middle story. Seeing as it has 4 main arcs, it's taking a while. Thank you for all of you who gave this story kudos!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there you beauty. Today (March 17 2017) I've made major grammar edits in Chapter 1. Good reading!

 

 

 

>  
> 
> _Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,_  
>  _And sorry I could not travel both_  
>  _And be one traveler, long I stood_
> 
>   
>  _And looked down one as far as I could_  
>  _To where it bent in the undergrowth;_  
>  _Then took the other, as just as fair,_  
>  _And having perhaps the better claim,_
> 
>   
>  _Because it was grassy and wanted wear;_  
>  _Though as for that the passing there_  
>  _Had worn them really about the same,_
> 
>   
>  _And both that morning equally lay_  
>  _In leaves no step had trodden black._
> 
>   
>  _Oh, I kept the first for another day!_
> 
>   
>  _Yet knowing how way leads on to way,_  
>  _I doubted if I should ever come back._
> 
>   
>  _I shall be telling this with a sigh_  
>  _Somewhere ages and ages hence:_  
>  _Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—_  
>  _I took the one less traveled by,_
> 
>   
>  _And that has made all the difference._
> 
>   
>  _The Road Not Taken_  
>  _Robert Frost_
> 
>  |

 

I fell fast, feeling the wind rushing through me like a strong, relentless force. It seemed as if a veil surged through the night sky, which was now covered – _enchanted_ – right into a ceiling. As quick as I had noticed this, faces were starting to appear all around me. Couples, no, dozens of faces of people I can't recognize. They stared at me in horror, in shouts and whispers that were quickly lost to me, too fast and incomprehensible. I caught a glimpse of a man standing still, full of beard, beside a goblet. He held a piece of paper. His face was snow white.

~~**L.V.** ~~

 

After the bone crushing pain of falling, I opened my eyes without realizing I had closed them. There I was in a completely different room with white walls, lower ceiling, completely in the dark. It took me time to make my eyes adjust to the lack of light, yet finally, I could see beyond my own bed.  It was now easy seeing the other dozen beds around the room, just like my own: white, thin blankets, something that only resembled a pillow (too thin!) and curtains at the sides, which weren't hiding the beds right now. The curtains around my bed weren't covering it either. Seeing all the other tidy beds I noticed I was completely alone here.  

Until shadows came near. I could see two huge shadow people, clear due to what I could only guess was a lamp. They were coming closer, I saw the shadows coming near this room's open doors. Were they here to talk to me? Explain where I was?

Yet the rushed voices I heard little, instigated a chilling feeling in my bones. An irrational harder heart beat came up and I tucked myself under the blankets, trying to make me 'invisible' within the thin fabric. I breathed deeper to ease my pounding heart as I finally felt safer, and closed my eyes, confident that I could fake sleeping.

I couldn't.

A pair of twinkling blue eyes caught my gaze before I could close my own.

“It seems he’s awake.” A man uttered this, rendering me speechless. Hearing it I looked right into this man's eyes. Then I found it wasn't necessary for me to speak at all. The man reached for his pockets, sacking out a piece of wood in a beat – a _wand_ , my memory gently reminded me – and directed it at my head. In a flash surged a blue light, encompassing myself and making me close my eyes, waiting for the obvious, expected impact.

Which never came.

"I'm sorry, my boy, but it's best for you to rest." His words echoed through space at the same time I heard footsteps from another. A person I hadn't seen yet. "Now we may talk."

I felt the barest of caress in my face. I put all my effort into _not jumping the hell outta here_.

"Was it really necessary, making him sleep?" I had to contain a shudder at the sudden feminine voice inches from me,  probably the owner of the very hands touching me. She didn't wait for the wand man to answer. "So is it true, Albus?", she inquired, voice faltering in the man's name. 

“I’m afraid so, Minerva.” His voice was solemn, quiet, barely audible. 

"We need to act, fast. I... I've never seen this form of magic before, in all my life. And you know how many curses I have seen.” She took a deep breath. “We need to discuss how he appeared, yet if he really has lost it... inquiring would be helpless. The way Harry Potter appeared... How will we counter the curse bound in him now? Merlin, the Dark Mark...” Her voice faltered again. “The Dark Mark was plastered all over his chest! How can you---” I heard a gasp for breath as if someone was trying to suppress emotions with all might. When the woman’s voice reached my ears once again, it was hardly any louder than a whisper. I strained my ears and concentrated to overhear her words. Immediately I wished I didn’t. “We can’t let him die, Albus.”

Silence. After a few moments, where I did my best to stay still, Albus spoke again.

“He won't if we have any say in this, my dear friend. Our time may be short, yet we won’t let the mark fade on his chest. We won’t let it win. We’ll keep Harry alive, no matter what. Now we must let him met his friends once again, they were worried-”

“Merlin knows they were.” She said in a bitter tone.

“- and in them shall we rest our faith. A mind wiped of memory will only find true rest among what was once dear. He’s strong, Minerva, don’t doubt him a moment. We may yet be surprised by the outcome of this matter.” The woman gasped, outraged.

“So you think it’s possible then, Albus? You think it’s possible that he’ll remember?” Apparently, the silence was answer enough to her question, as she spoke again. “It’s impossible, Albus! Completely, utterly ridiculous!”

“Not impossible, Minerva.” I heard a sigh. “Merely unheard of.”

A few moments of quietness stilled a tense atmosphere. It must have been minutes in total silence already. Even if I couldn’t hear them, I didn’t dare open my eyes - it was hard enough keeping my hands from trembling… Harry. Harry Potter. That's my name. This is the Hospital Wing, a room inside Hogwarts. Hogwarts… my home. These people... they talked about me as if they knew me. Yet I don’t remember them. I also don’t remember any friends they talked about. That's horrible... they are friends with someone who can’t even name then… Suddenly it sank. What was all this talk about curses? About how I was when I appeared... about me dying? What is _the bloody hell_ happening?

My hands shook hard under the blankets and a sense of dread encompassed myself. They must have noticed me. No way they wouldn’t notice someone trembling horribly right in front of their eyes. They would notice the spell had no effect and that I’m yet awake. That I overheard them.

Yet I only heard distant footsteps. Daring to open my eyes just a tiny bit, fully expecting their shocked faces or more wands and spells at me... I was surprised. The pair was already by the door, a somber look on their faces. I closed my eyes again, straining to hear their voices’ echoes.

“There’s a chance he’ll remember everything, as small as it may be. We don’t know the extent of this curse. Poppy doesn’t know if he was obliviated or if her spell’s results were just a temporary side effect from the curse. She said so herself.”

“I hope you are right, Albus.”

They left without looking back.

~~**L.V.** ~~

 

 

"

" _arry!_ Ron, he's waking up!" A high-pitched voice shouted right next to me. I hadn’t even opened my eyes properly before a horrible headache popped up in my brain. Slowly, dizzy, I opened my eyes to the sight of two people, a brunette and a red haired, tall guy. I was still on the Hospital Wing.

“Hey mate.” The red-headed boy was sitting on my bed's left side, his eyes an expression I couldn't exactly pinpoint. _Uh._ It took me an embarrassingly long time to notice he was talking _to_ me.

“Hey... _erm_...” I heard someone calling a, a _Ron_ , right? “Hi, Ron.”

His stunned expression was quite clear to me, despite he trying to make it quickly disappear. The silence that followed was quite uncomfortable. Yet the brunette didn't seem fazed at all, but all more excited. She was at my right and turned backwards, towards an older woman. “Madam Pomfrey! He said Ron’s name!” The same woman, _Pomfrey_ , left whatever she was doing in the cabinets at the far end of the room, coming in a rush towards me.

Despite the weird _run_ , she didn't seem much fazed by it, as her voice sported calm and a certain coldness. “How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?” Taking a good hawk look at me and noticing me gulping down, she directed a stern look towards my both sides. “You both, I believe it’s better to rush to your classes. Leave him resting for now.”

Immediately the red-haired, _uh_ , Ron, contorted his face in anger. As he opened his mouth and jumped out of the bed towards Pomfrey, I stepped up to cut him off. “No, I’m... I’m _fine_.” All eyes looked at me. Poppy’s eyes were clearly unbelieving. “I’m just a bit dizzy.”

Her eyes seemed to soften for a second before they turned cold again. “Did you call him Ron?”

“... _ye_ _p_?”

She shook her head. Her eyes stared down the brunette, her jaw slightly falling. As incomprehensible to me as it was, the brunette girl seemed to understand it, directing a look of her own towards me. Pomfrey was then walking towards the far end of the room, again at a cabinet, fussing over something. The brunette at my right cleared her throat and looked at me expectantly. I stared at her right back. She remained staring.

“Harry? Are you OK?”

"I…" She raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. I was getting anxious once again, my hands trembling, and I reached for my clothes, fiddling with the fabric. Something weird was there. I creased my brows, as I don't remember leaving something in my pockets – or better yet, I don't remember much of anything at all. There was something round, seemingly of metal, ice cold to the touch.

I glanced into the brunette's eyes.

“I'm alright...”

_:Please, please, he knows my name. He can't have forgotten it.:_

What am I hearing? She isn't moving her mouth, but it's as if I can hear her.

_:Me, Hermione… say it, Harry!:_

Why is her voice inside my head? And what she was saying…

“...Hermione.” In the exact moment I said her name, her face crumbled. Her eyes grew watery and she jumped over me, hugging me hard. She didn't sob, but her body contorted above me, her frizzy hair claiming the insides of my mouth and nose. It seemed that a huge weight left her shoulders.

“ _Glad you remember us_.”

Oh.

OH.

Yesterday, hadn't the people who visited me commented about my _friends_? The ones I don't remember?

She must think I remember them. She must think, along with this Ron guy and Pomfrey woman, that I hadn't forgotten them. What do I do?

Lie?

And how did I even hear her voice? My hands have moved away from whatever is inside my pocket. A lingering feeling tells me this _whatever_ was why I could hear her.

But I couldn't delve deeper into such thoughts. Pomfrey said something about informing the headmaster, excusing herself from us, disappearing from the Hospital Wing in seconds as if her legs were a snitch. Hermione was hugging me with such a force that I could hardly breathe and Ron made a face while looking at us, but said nothing. I could feel my white shirt getting wet, but Hermione didn't make any crying sound.

"You got _no idea_ what you made us go through!" That's true, considering I remember nothing at all from you lot. She lifted her head, her voice coming surprisingly strong despite the tear tracks around her brown eyes. "You disappeared the day we would take the Hogwarts express to go back home… no one saw you for whole months... what…" She looked at Ron, who put a supporting hand on her arms. She reached for Ron's hand. "...what _happened to you_ , Harry?"

No idea. But I don't think this would be an "O" answer. Anyway, thank you for conveniently informing me more about what's happening, even if you were most probably repeating the events surrounding my disappearance for your own rambling. Now what to say, what to say… I remembered last night, the things the couple had said about curses and me dying. This doesn't seem like a nice conversation topic, so I pick what I deem is safe to say, considering I don't remember much. “It was horrible, Hermione. They…" I remember the woman saying something about a curse. Just play obviously. "They cursed me." Make a face of complete sorrow. And for the best line of the night… or morning, whatever: "I don't want to talk about it." How to say absolutely nothing to people who you don't know a thing about - classes with Harry Potter! Or not, as it didn't work out.

"Harry, you can tell us!" The look of pity mixed with worry on their faces made me want to go back in time and eat my words. This girl had an 'I'm NOT letting you get away with this bullshit" face. Then she gazed out of the Hospital Wing's nearest window, and she said, her voice rough: "They thought you were dead." The "we" hidden in the "they" wasn't hidden good enough. They both must have been worried sick, if they are my friends - what would explain why they're here instead of in class, especially Hermione, being the bookworm…Bookworm. What.

"YOU'RE A BOOKWORM."

Hermione jumped backward after my shout and Ron tried to get her before she could fall awkwardly on the floor by throwing himself at my bed’s other side, right above me. He almost didn't manage it. Now I screwed just right.

"I, I mean…",  _quick_  "...you're here, even if you would most likely be in the library right now. Sorry for keeping you up and worrying you, I…" Ron left Hermione alone, who was fortunately still standing, and got out of me just as thunderous footsteps saved me from making an even bigger fool out of myself. Or not, considering that the ugliest wizard I could never have imagined in my wildest nightmares walked into the room, with a fake eye and an air of suspicion all around him. And at his side, the bearded man again. Who perhaps is even scarier, if you look too much into his twinkling eyes.

~~**L.V.** ~~

~~**POV CHANGE** ~~

 

 

The students in the Great Hall were loud as I had never seen them before. Each table bore a loud chorus of voices from a vast range of ages, all excited about what was to come. To my pride, the Slytherins were the most composed – of course – wherever the Gryffindors were a huge embarrassment to the other schools gathered here. They were screaming their lungs hoarse in such an _idiotic_ fashion.

It could happen any moment now. You see, the Champions from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were already sorted: a young and charming Veela, from the French Delacour family, and a bulky guy, from the Dark Arts Magical School of Durmstrang, Krum. Now it was time for the Hogwarts champion. For the one deemed powerful enough to enter the tournament. People were ecstatic, throwing the names of their favorite candidates out of their mouths. I heard a lot calling out Cedric Diggory, along with some other candidates from stupid Gryffindor. As expected.

Dumbledore conducted a poor show of fire as the Goblet vomited a folded piece of paper. Then he picked it, all drama aside, staring at it in utter silence. As he was reading, the crowd cheered, their faces expecting their favorite candidate's name.

"CASSIUS WARRINGTON!"


	2. Dark Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos!!!!! :)
> 
> Happy Christmas guys!
> 
> EDIT: Chapter edited in 10/13/2016.

 

“CASSIUS WARRINGTON!”

Silence.

 

__

 

The Slytherins were unsurprisingly the first to notice what was going on. And then the other houses did.

All hell broke loose.

“ **No!** ” A Gryffindor jumped on his table, pointing towards the Slytherins. Dumbledore stared at the student, a sheepish look on his face. He didn’t lift a single finger, no, of course not. Raise his voice at his precious red-clothed students? A blasphemy! It’s not as if he’s the headmaster or anything...

“A _snake_?"

The horror-filled faces from the Hufflepuffs were comical. They whispered and looked in my direction, not masking their fear in the least. No doubt it had never passed through their minds that a _slimy snake_ \- as they oh so intellectually named us - would be able to enter the Tournament. And not only did one enter it, but also took the place their beloved Cedric was so sure to take. They naively thought only the pure hearted or such rubbish would make it into the Tournament…

“ **Bullshit**!

In the meantime that two thirds of the hall occupied their minds with a “what may I shout next at the snakes? As in, may I shout, or should I just glare instead? Or better yet, both!”, the Ravenclaws barely looked in our direction at all. They seemed entertained, the lot of them, with their own books. Were they revising the rules? Oh, so childish. It didn’t take a while before some Ravenclaws sported a gleeful look, picking a book as if sacred, bringing it in the direction of the Professors. Shouting:

“Impossible!”

And the Professors, ah. They were quite entertaining on their own.

“He’s a cheater!”

The more light-oriented professors were, of course, flabbergasted at what happened just before their eyes. Pomona Sprout displayed an interesting whiter shade in her face. Minerva though; she wasn’t happy in the least. Her sour looking face and hard eyes were directed at her Gryffindors, no doubt a second before storming at her table and putting a stop to the Gryffindor scandal. As for Snape, he looked at the Slytherins with a gleeful expression. He, the usually stoic man - yet this was quite an especial occasion on its own, and it did warrant a great delight from the Slytherins. All in all, no reason to keep up a mask of a composed, stoic man - more than half of the hall’s eyes were on the ‘evilings’, as they so kindly put.

“Retry!”

“He’s _evil_.”

Some Gryffindorks even rose from their seats. They thought that going to the Slytherin table and doing whatever their stupid minds said to do would change something. They are _that_ stupid. After all, once chosen by the goblet one is bond to its rules until the Tournament’s very end. One wouldn’t be able to change the results after one champion’s announcement.

I sigh. The stupid Gryffindors were already past the Ravenclaw’s table when they stopped dead in their tracks.

I stood up.

I lifted my chin high and fixed any crumples in my robes with only a wave of my hand. I left the Slytherin table and walked calmly, heading to the door destined to the Champions.

I would close the door if not by the goblet flaring once again.

Another champion isn’t possible...

Halting my steps, I stare towards Dumbledore, who already holded a piece of paper.

He was white. 

He mumbled something impossible.

“Harry… Potter?”

It must be a joke.

Harry Potter, the one who disappeared right under everyone’s noses. Harry Potter, the one no one saw since the beginning of the year. The one who every spell cast and every potion made pointed to only one answer.

Dead.

 A loud clashing sound came from the Great Hall and in a rush, I saw it. Something moving too quick from above, from the ceiling. It was falling. It was a body.

Of Harry _fucking_ Potter.

No one saw fit to cushion his fall and the dead fell right in the middle of the Gryffindor table. Or not so dead, judging by the whimper of pain he let out. McGonagall and Dumbledore were already nearing him, though something curious is displayed in his chest.

_A morsmordre._

So that’s how the Boy-Who-Lived returns from the dead. Again.

 

 

 

 

“Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. I believe breakfast is almost finished.” Albus and the freaking guy were already near my bed. Albus’ eyes didn’t twinkle while saying this - his expression was uncannilly hard. Hermione quickly stood and looked Albus in the eyes. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione beat him to it.

 

“You’re right, Professor Dumbledore.”

 

She whisked Ron away before I could even blink and shoot an apologetic look in my direction. I saw she waving and mouthing “We’ll be back”. I waved back.

 

How to feel when people who are supposedly your friends run away in a hurry with only a few words from a man? How much power, exactly, did this man possess over Hogwarts’ students, for his words to be unquestioned?

 

“Good morning, my boy. This here is your defense’s professor, Alastor Moody. We are here for an inquiry on your whereabouts in the past few months.”

 

I nodded. The thing is… I would like to know it myself.

 

Alastor Moody stepped in front of Albus and took his wand out. When he pointed it at me I flinched, but no spell came out of it. He was only watching me with his good eye while his fake one moved in all directions, never stopping in one place. It’s disturbing. I look at Albus, waiting for the questions - but it was Moody who spoke first.

 

“May I see it?”

 

He said, barely above a whisper, in what stuck to me as _reverent_...

 

I opened my mouth to ask Moody _exactly what_ he wanted to see when his head moved in Albus’ direction, ignoring me completely. Albus nodded, and Moody stepped closer to me.

 

“Open your shirt, lad.”

 

“What?”

 

“I said, open your shirt.”

 

I looked at Albus and saw him staring at my chest, a worried look clear as rain in his face. Whatever they want to see can’t be a good thing.

 

My fingers worked clumsy through my borrowed shirt from the Hospital Wing. I didn’t know exactly what to expect - the talk yesterday seemed to suggest that I had a mark, a dark mark…

 

And it doesn’t take long to see black painting as if something burned in me these carvings.

 

I couldn’t see the carvings clearly, but I felt a weird trepidation. I was sweeting, my fingers fumbling with the last buttons. And when I got the last out, I breathed deeply. I didn’t notice I had closed my eyes before having to open them again.

 

They had horror faces.

 

The carvings were all around my chest, black as if from a beating. They formed a huge skull, detailed until the last contours, and also a snake who appeared to have its huge body all around me, with it’s lidless eyes coming out of the skull’s mouth. It seemed _real_. 

 

I nearly fainted when it started to _move_.

 

It wasn ‘t moving quickly, but small movements could be seen every few seconds. My hands rushed into my shirt’s buttons to hide it all, but I couldn’t. Moody was pointing his wand at the tip of the snake’s head in a second.

 

“What do you say, Moody?”

 

Moody was expressionless. “It’s _very_ dark.”

 

Albus’ face sank and he himself was drawing his wand at me now.

 

“As I had feared.”

 

My mouth got dry.

 

“ _Tenebris revelare._ ” Moody started to repeat these words over and over again, making the carvings stop all movement completely. The snake started to move only its head. Its eyes were fixed on Moody. Then it jumped towards Moody’s wand, never leaving my skin, and smoke came out of the snake’s mouth. Moody didn’t seem impressed, but a weird glint was in his eyes, making me all but want to get the hell out of here.

 

“This here,” Moody murmured, his face in a weird type of expression,  “is a very difficult type of magic. This thingy here, this snake, damn _ate_ the spell. You know what that means?” He looked at me in the eyes. “It’s using your own magical core. Probably eating it, for its own survival.”

 

“So it must be soul magic. Made by, I fear, Voldemort himself.” Albus concluded.

 

Moody craned his neck too fast for it to be a completely human motion.

 

“Voldemort? VOLDEMORT?” Moody got the wand out of my skin and threw himself backward and he - gasp - started to BARK out loud. Weird guy INDEED. It’s needless to say no one was laughing with him.

 

I got my shirt very well closed in a rush.

 

“He’s gone, Albus. And this, _this_ one made sure he was. I say it’s, it’s just a follower. Taking revenge and all that shit.” He didn’t stop chuckling, even if he was doing it quietly now.

 

“Harry,” Albus came very close to me, making eye contact. I looked down. “How did you get this?”

 

I should try to tell the truth… or the closest to it.

 

“I can’t remember, sir.”

 

“But Poppy said that you can remember your friends. Isn’t that right?”

 

“I do remember them, as I remember Hogwarts.” Albus made a motion for me to remain talking. “I remember that I disappeared the day we would take the Hogwarts’ express to go home, and then that I fell down in… the Great Hall, a lot of students were there. And there was a goblet…”

 

Albus nodded, his eyes shining. I still didn’t look at them for more than a second, they unnerved me. He turned to Moody and was going to say something, but Moody rushed in.

 

“No, no… I got no idea how to get this curse out. Never seen anything quite like that before. It’s using his magical core, that’s all I know. Nothing left to say?”

 

“Actually, I-”

 

“-Perfect! Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter. Goodbye and all that stuff.” Moody walked in long strides in the direction of the door and I watched him until he disappeared. Albus’ lips tightened, and his head turned towards me again.

 

“About the curse,” and here his eyes went rigid, “Don’t worry. I will research more on this piece of magic and before you can blink it will have disappeared. In the meanwhile perhaps you should ask Poppy for lemon drops, those wonderful sweets  - there must be some here. I believe she will come back here any second.” He grinned and waltzed away from me while Poppy appeared once again from the Hospital Wing’s open doors. She left through a door inside the Hospital Wing without looking at my direction.

 

Before Albus disappeared through the doors, he looked back. I looked into his eyes and couldn’t take mine off of his.

 

“And I was forgetting it already… did you catch it?” His voice echoed through the room as if he was right beside me. Weird.

 

“What are you talking about, professor?” I replied.

 

“The snitch, my boy. Did you catch it?”

 

I looked at him with a poker face. Why is he talking about a snitch _now_ , of all times?

 

I saw his face darken before his expression was replaced by calm contempt.

 

“Forget about it.”

 

He left.

 

 

 

 

Later on, Hermione and Ron came in with clothes and the school robes for me and I noticed now the looks they sometimes shooted at my chest - it seems they knew exactly what was lying there and I don’t know how they could manage to keep it to themselves. I know I couldn’t stop replaying the snake in the moment it ate the spell - the moment when smoke came out of its mouth, and the knowledge that even if it’s hidden in my clothes, this thing remains in there. I don’t know if it’s because I now know what is in my chest, but if I ease my breath and pay enough attention, it’s as if I can feel the snake opening its mouth, flicking its tongue.

 

It’s needless to say it’s disturbing.

 

Well, no more thinking about that! Enough! Hermione and Ron were standing beside me and waiting to talk to me. They didn’t even find it that weird that I spaced out completely, considering what they know is in my chest… Oh, stop it!

 

I need to change the topic…

 

“Hey Ron, Albus said something about a snitch.”

 

“Harry!” Hermione shouted outraged, but I could see she appreciated the change of topic - or, perhaps, the existence of a topic to talk about. “It’s Professor Dumbledore!”

 

I rolled my eyes and her lips curled a bit, unwillingly. Ron laughed openly at Hermione’s antics.

 

“Yeah, mate. Quite a fuss, really. They never found the snitch you went searching for, in the day you… you know…” Ron replied. “You went flying for a bit before getting your trunk sorted and it never was found again. Not the snitch, and not you... until now. I’m glad you’re back.”

 

“Me too.” Hermione looked at me with comforting eyes and not a small bit of... guilt? Did they blamed themselves for my disappearance…?

 

And about the snitch, Albus now knows I was lying about the day I disappeared. Uh.

 

 

 

Cassius Warrington opened his eyes and immediately stared at his face in the mirror. He seemed tired and felt like it - his body ached and he thought that a shower would fix that. He made it into the shower, mentally.

 

His body didn’t move.

 

He started to get frantic, trying to move anything; not even his head turned to the sides, and he couldn’t remember having dinner last night so it couldn’t be poison on his food. His stare never wavered from his face and not even his heart beat as fast as he could feel his mind thinking, rushing to possible solutions. His hand moved, but it wasn’t on his own accord. His face moved against his will, looking over the windows which displayed the inside of Hogwart’s lake just beyond the Slytherin’s toilet, before slowly returning to stare at the mirror. He couldn’t lift a single finger and the sensation of someone using his body made him feel violated.

  
The face in the mirror grinned.


	3. Old Acquaintance

 

 

“Are you sure you want to go alone, Harry?”

 

“It wouldn’t be a problem for us Harry.”

 

“If you’re sure you’ll be alright, mate... “

 

...as if I’m completely incapable of finding my own dormitory!

 

Ok, I don’t remember how many years exactly I’m studying at Hogwarts and this is very embarrassing. Yet really, how hard could it be to find a fat lady among lots of different weird portraits and ask her to allow me to pass?

 

And yes, I do remember the fat lady. Apparently there are some perks in the curse casted in me; it didn’t erase all my memory of everything. In fact, the longer I try to think about things, the more I sort of remeber something - even if I get a horrible headache afterwards. For example, me remembering the fat lady. Yet there are a lot of things I can’t truly remember, such as memories for the most part of my years, little, trivial knowledge like the way to my dormitory… and lets not forget these past months were I can’t remember anything at all. It’s all a blank.

 

I don’t even know what I should remember!

 

On second thoughts, that’s pretty obvious.

 

Returning to the previous topic, I was rambling about how I undoutedly would find the right path, perhaps with a small bit of effort and sweat, although Hogwarts couldn’t be _that_ big. At least, I didn’t remember it being too big.

 

Of course I was terribly wrong.

 

I can already HEAR Hermione’s scolding speech in my head, taking imensurable amounts of my time. But really, it would be so humillating. Not only would I keep them from their clases - even as Hermione assured me that the headmaster himself suggested they spent time with me for a little bit - it also would raise questions. So I firmly refused. I can’t very well claim to be a hundred percent alright not even walking to my dormitory alone.

 

Yet I’m _not_ completely alright, even with small glimpses about my past and all. Earlier today Madam Pomfrey said with all the words that I shouldn’t remember much of anything and that she was fairly convinced that a very powerful curse should have wiped the vast majority of my memories, leaving me in a perpetual state of confusion forever and ever and blah blah blah. Let’s not forget the praise upon my magic prowess, which should be the only reason I can remember anything and more blah blah blah. Not in those exact words.

 

As a matter of fact she isn’t even sure someone cast an obliviate at me at all. She had rambled on about the reasons as if I knew the meaning of obliviate, which quickly irritated me (I don’t remember much about spells either. Yes, life sucks).

 

Also, my diagnosis appears to be quite large, what with the damn moving freaking weird tatto and all. I had to withstand a full ten minutes of excuse-rambling because Madam Pomfrey is as in the dark as anyone else about it. She has no idea if Moody’s (‘It’s Professor Moody’ Hermione would whine), _Professor_ Moody’s conclusions upon the nature of my tatto are correct or not. What she does know is that it’s connected with my very own magical core and that it’s dangerous to have it. Yet it’s dangerous to _not_ have it. Yes, you now can grasp my own confusion. It’s so entangled with my magical core that it’s using my magic as fuel to it (to do exactly what I have no idea, perhaps it uses my magic to move?). I apparently am stricted forbidden from doing too much magic as to not overexert myself. But its not as if I’m going right into a magic marathon for my life in the near future.

 

So I have an enigma that Madam Pomfrey, a skilled healer - as not everyone can work in a school full of children for years without learning a trick or two - doesn’t know anything about. Even with my inquiry as to why, she just said “it’s dark magic” as if this should answer me somehow. What if it’s dark magic? Isn’t it magic… ah, _duh_ ? Isn’t she a _magical_ healer?

 

Logic went out the window.

 

And I’m nearly throwing myself through one too.

 

This should be the hundreth time I see the same set of stairs. How am I sure they are the very same ones I have seen for a incommensurable amount of times? Well, of course, being _being_ in a magical school, it had a lot of weird, unique fluffy-like blue dots which I’m fairly certain are a type of fungus only found in Hogwart’s wood. A magical fungus.

 

A blue magical fungus.

 

I take a deep breath and unclench my jaw; there’s no reason to stress myself with such trivialties. It’s not as if I’ve been lost for such a long time as I haven’t meet a soul in my endless trek around the castle - so classes are still on, lucky me (I have no idea what I would do if I saw somenone that would recognize me and greet me and talk and all the while I would have no idea where the heck this person came from).

 

I look right. More sets of stairs that I could go to, if I haven’t already (I’m fairly certain I already did).

 

I look left. The same weird girl’s bathroom that I’m fairly certain I didn’t go into. No reason to, right?

 

I should just say to myself: I’m utterly, hopelessly lost.

 

Of course I won’t ever say that.

 

So, I could just turn right and perpetuate my misery of magical wandering (how poetic) OR I could turn left and see if there is a set of stairs I haven’t already tried hidden somewhere in the girl’s bathroom. It’s not necessary to say I’m being sarcastic, is it?

 

I hadn’t really control over my feet when they led me towards the very mysterious (no) girl’s bathroom, all the while scrubbing my eyes and trying to ease my headache by trying to pump it out with my fingers. I sat on the ground - no way I would sit on a toilet seat - when I sensed a heaviness in my back pocket.

 

A memory came to me; my fingers, trembling and reaching something in my pocket; the triggered mind reading, Hermione’s words in my head as if she had spoken them out loud without moving her lips and she none the wiser of what happened. How when I changed clothes I went back to check the infirmary-provided pant’s pockets and there wasn’t anything there.

 

And now it seemed to have mysteriously reappeared back in my back pocket.

 

I make a grab for it. I nearly jumped three feet back.

 

My fingers grabbed something round, which radiated warmth - so hot that I feared my fingers got burnt for a moment only to not feel any itching.

 

I reverently picked it up and put it towards the hazy light coming from the nearby windows. The sight that greeted me was breathtaking.

 

The art was such I had never seen before (I think), detailed with gold, _gold_ ornaments of such rich detail I was struck speechless. Saying my curiosity was picked was an understatement. It was a very expensive and beautiful, _beautiful_ locket. I had the weirdest desire to inspect it all, to run my fingers all over the ornaments, to open it and see what is inside ---

 

\--- until harsh footsteps came in.

 

I nearly let the locket fall by how sudden this person came in. Fast as I never thought myself to be, I hid it again inside the nearest pocket. I looked up, already trying to come up with an excuse for intruding in a girl’s toilet, fully expecting to see a girl there, obviously.

 

Perhaps I wasn’t the only lost wandering lost soul in these halls, as a young man about my age and clad in green robes entered instead. He went straight for the mirrors in the center of the toilet (perhaps he wasn’t lost - a vain wandering soul instead?) before making a double take and widening his eyes for just a second at me in the corner. Then his face turned impassive.

 

Seconds ticked by before it was too awkward for me to properly breath in.

 

“Erhm… hi?” It wasn’t supposed to be a question yet this person’s hard expression was a bit intimidating - not that I was intimidated, of course. Of course not.

 

“Good morning, Potter.” Shit. A person who knows me. I smiled the _awkwardest_ smile before getting up and quietly strolling towards Unknown Vainness.

 

“Yeah, morning. Quite a coincidence meeting here, huh?” Vainness raised a single brow and I winced. Nice one, Harry Potter… This isn’t a reaction of a best friend forever, certainly. We’re only acquaintants, then? We must be in the same class because he knows my name and all. “You know what classes we’re taking tomorrow or something?” Vainness raised his other eyebrow.

 

Silence, then.

 

“What exactly are you inferring, Potter?”

 

Very well done, Harry Potter, digging your grave just great. At least I had the good sense of not asking “Hey, whatcha doing in girl’s toilet?” as I hadn’t any good answer to the same question. Later on I must think thoroughly about giving  ‘best awkward conversations ever’ classes, me being so good at it.

 

So good that I gave a brilliant answer that would undoubtedly get me out of this mess.

 

“Huh?”

 

Vainness just continued staring at me and I stared right back and the minutes ticked by and it was absolutely ridiculous already (it already was absolutely ridiculous before _also_ ).

 

It seemed Vainness would get us all out of this misery.

 

“Perhaps it’s time for introductions, if I may. Cassius Warrington.” And he extended his hand, flashing me a ridiculous all-teeth smile.

 

I quickly grabbed his hand. “Harry Potter.” His dark brown eyes flashed a wicked glint that was gone so fast I’m not really sure I saw it.

 

“Heading for lunch then, Potter? You were already released from the infirmary, if I’m correct?”

 

I nodded. Lunch. A word that I hand’t quite thought about and that my stomatch quickly exposed its disapproval. “Yes, I was just released from the infirmary. You too heading for lunch? We could go together.” ‘And you could show me the way because I have no idea where it is whatsoever’ wasn’t exactly a thing one could say.

 

“Of course. Lead the way.” He went back to the mirrors for a second, not seeing me freezing and fumbling at his last sentence, and made justice to my nickname by sorting out his already perfectly sorted out light brown hair.  

 

“So, the question everyone is making. Where have you been, Potter? Your disappearance left quite a ruckus.” Warrington said after a while. I made sure to be just a bit behind him so I wouldn’t obviously appear to be following him. Now, for the big question - I got no idea what to say. What would anyone say in my situation? ‘Uh, no idea dude. Apparently I was with a lot of dark magic and such. How’s the weather today?’

 

The seconds ticked by and he glanced at me. And a wave of sudden, amazing inspiration hit me.

 

“I’m not allowed to say.”

 

He clenched his jaw.

 

“So it’s true, then? The rumours saying you went around the world fighting evil wizards in a super secret mission to save us all?”

 

I looked dumbstruck at him. He glanced back, a small smirk adorning his face.

 

“It was a joke.”

 

“Ah.”

 

I tried to laugh at it, I really did, but the thought of me as a super hero saving the world is quite weird. After all, I’m just Harry.

 

“So what happened here these past few months?” I ventured.

 

He glanced at me again before looking back at the stair-mess that is Hogwarts.

 

“Not much. The ruckus, as I said, after you disappeared, half of the wizarding world in a frantic to find you all summer, welcoming speech and start of classes again and you falling down the sky on the very night of the tournament’s champions announcement.”

 

Half of the wizarding world in a frantic to find _me_ ? Well, that must be also a joke of sorts. Best to left it at that and not start once _again_ an embarrassing conversation.

 

“A tournament?”

 

“Didn’t you hear about it? Ah, yes, classified information, right. Anyway, it seems you are the fourth champion and this year, for the first time in history, there are two champions from the very same school. They had just called your name when you fell down the sky. Quite a well-timed appearance, I must say.”

 

“Well, that’s unfair.”

 

“To the other champions you could say so.”

 

“So how is the tournament? Being alongside classes, it’s sort of a test then? Like regular exams?” It’s not as if they would put a competition too difficult in a school full of small children and all.

 

Warrington went quiet for several minutes and I wasn’t expecting an answer anymore. We were already reaching two huge double doors which I deduced were where we would have lunch - Warrington was stopping. I stopped too.

 

“It actually was banished for a long time. For a reason.”

 

My face of confusion didn’t make him elaborate further.

 

“Being…?”

 

“The large amount of competitors who died quite horrible nasty deaths.”

 

I stared right into his brown eyes with bewilderment - I was sure I didn’t hear correctly. But some nagging feeling inside me whispered that many times before I dealt with impossible.

 

Because it would be impossible for a tournament that dangerous to be approved for a _school_ , right?

 

He should be just messing with me.

 

“Oh. Wonderful.” I actually smiled at him and fumbled with my hands in my front pocket. There was something incredibly hot inside my pocket (no I’m not saying anything dirty) and then I touched it. It was just the weirdly beautiful locket.

 

Something passed too quickly on Warrington’s expression that I wasn’t able to grasp.

 

“Take good care, Potter.”

 

And he left.

 

\-----LV-----

 

For a moment there I was sure I would make it. How…? How did he evade my legilimency? I pushed a bomb into his face. I had the pleasure to crack through his normal mind defenses like cutting butter. I could grasp his memories already… and then I was shut down as if it never happened at all.

 

Who _exactly_ is Harry Potter?

 

Not as I remembered...


	4. Crimson Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, yes, I'm a bitch, taking all this time to finish this fanfiction. As a poor excuse, last year I hadn't money to buy food and I worked 15 hours/day. It was mad. Anyway, I still don't have a beta reader and this makes me really uncomfortable, considering I'm not a native English speaker. If anyone wants to volunteer, I would be delighted, as I'm really unsure if I was clear enough in some parts, including the direction this story is taking. Also, I'm leaving you with a mental map of the previous chapters with the most important topics, if you don't want to read them again. Cheers!!!
> 
> Chapter 1 mental map: https://postimg.org/image/yprjglfkt/  
> Chapter 2: https://postimg.org/image/dnf5j5skn/  
> Chapter 3: https://postimg.org/image/kggkn1591/

Something gold was sparkling below. It’s a shining, old handle that I pulled down. The place I was about to enter looked ominous, difficult to see, right in the bottom of the street. In a dark angle. The other end was barely illuminated by a feisty decaying lamp, accompanied by many frantic vultures of people walking back and forth. They never looked in my direction, in a haste and splurting babbles I did not understand a word. It nagged at me that it wasn't English, not at all. 

Staring right back at the building, my chest contrived. The marmory which formed the building's structure was greenish, weird, with... more babble as its heading. How creative. I was flabbergasted at their capacity of explaining that well this building's purpose.  

Don’t do they know the meaning of, uh, _naming_ a building? It’s a thing you do to make people know what a place is about beforehand. So they can choose to enter or not. Uh, duh. It could be a brothel for all I know.

Or it never was a choice. I mean, entering. Or not.

“Welcome, Mr. Potter.” A heavy accent appears along with these words. I look at the one talking through the door's crack - an impossible creature, looking me up and down. It’s shorter than a normal person and, well... weird. I look down at _him,_  if I guessed right, trying to grasp exactly what it was.

His long nose was only surpassed by his ears, ridiculously large, his head sporting along it thick, white hair.

“He’s waiting”, the humanoid creature urges me. Unwillingly my heart picks up. 

As expected, the door creaked as it moved backward and, in a haste, I surged inside the building. After adjusting my eyes to the brighter light, I saw many humanoids moving around, working and rushing and appearing from every corner, carrying loads - and loads - of paper. It’s a workplace of sorts, then?

“Follow me.”

The humanoid rushed me, glaring. Then I stopped glancing around. Maybe, just maybe I was looking like an idiot. It's very possible that he dislikes people prying into his humanoid affairs. Be it as it may, I followed him as he moved into an intricate maze of torch-lit floors and corridors. We strolled down, down, as if going underground.

Uh, duh, Harry. Of course we were going underground if we were going down and entered on the first floor. Now the greatest question of all times: if the first floor is the, uh, first floor, then the floor below it is the zero floor? And the one below the later is the minus-one floor?

I felt so dumb.

We stopped after God knows how much time walking around the place. The humanoid took a step in front of one wall, swirling his finger up and down, then knocking. The stone left out cracking sounds, moving to the right and thus, making a dark crack appear. 

Horrifyingly enough, I felt a warmness surging in my ears, spreading through my face. I _won_ ' _t_ lose my composure, damn it! 

I hate blushing.

In the meanwhile, the humanoid only stood there, his eyes narrowed and _staring_. “Right after you, Mr. Potter.” His condescending tone was not missed by me.

I turned my eyes from him to the nonexistent piece of wall, the door, all horribly feisty. My body moved of its own accord and, leisurely, I disappeared into the blackness, taking just long enough to send a cocky smirk right after the humanoid.

Then all my breath was sucked right out my lungs. 

Right in the middle of a clearing, with his back to me, stood the one I was looking for. We greeted, then talked, while I slowly paced closer to him, the words we traded long lost to me as my vision started to fail. I could barely see him now, his black locks and tall stature.

“...blood ritual...” are the words I caught.

In a beat, I was eager to viciously cut my hand’s left palm with a switch from my wand.

We joined hands, the gesture crude and rough. I felt, deep within, the meaning of this disappearing inside my mind, escaping me. It was wrong, this that happened. Wasn't it?

Yet it felt right.

 

\--LV--

 

“ _Aguamenti_!”

I waked up in a jolt. What the hell. Uh. UH. I did _not_ scream like a girl.

“Sorry 'bout that, mate. You weren't waking.” Then I looked right into Ron's eyes, the one casting horrendous spells. If only glares could kill.

I was formulating a scolding speech to _Ron_ when I noticed the other guys laughing at my expense. Hah bloody hah. That Neville guy was the only one minding his own business. Good for him. Neville, you are the only grown up here beside me. Wait. He was facing the other way. His chest was moving back and forth. Was he, uh... lLaughing at me too?

A surge of awkwardness and rage possessed me. I was going to kill those guys, dripping water all over their faces OR NOT.

“Come on Harry. Or loose breakfast.” Seamus shot a smirk at me after saying that and going down, disappearing from sight, presumably heading to breakfast.

With my stomach rumbling, it probably would be a better idea to eat and THEN commit homicide.

“Bloody morning to you, too.” I said that before the rest went down to Gryffindor’s common room. Me? I was going to the showers.

Having water dripping all over was NOT on my schedule this morning.

So after taking a much-needed shower and drying myself in record time, I headed back to dorms, changing my clothes. I took the time to pry into my trunk (I guess it was mine). Then I glanced towards the window and...

Hey. What a weird dream.

So there was this guy. And we did a blood ritual. 

My mind is really, really fucked up... it must be the craziness of losing the majority of my memories finally catching up to me. Hah. Better just add this dream to my forgotten memories.

Good thing it was just a weird dream.

So I’m there clothed and sound looking through “my things” that I didn’t remember having, when I finally found it. A waaaand. How come I survived until now without one? Well, anyway. I picked it up with my left hand. There was a gash in it.

My left hand had a gash.

It was an old wound. I wouldn’t have thought anything about it before. Before, it would still be a memory lost to me. Yet it resembled the one I did to myself in the dream. A crazy, impossible possibility surged from the depths of my mind.

If it wasn’t a dream, then... Then it’s the first memory I got back. Not a tiny piece of information like Hermione being a bookworm. No headache coming my way by trying to remember things. Just a nearly complete, fuzzy memory. I let my body fall to the floor as if struck. And goddammit I was. I could be stepping over the clouds with that much giddiness. There were yet a lot of questions. What happened to me these past few months? Who were the men back there? The fuck is a blood ritual? Why a memory now, in my _sleep_ , of all things? Why, why, why... Yet none of it was more important than the major fact, thought.

I remembered a memory.

Something exploded inside me. It feels as if a huge weight left my shoulders, I... I can remember my memories, I can. And I had not noticed how fear was messing with me before. Damn it, I even forgot my way to the _Great Hall_. 

Even if a fragment, even if just a tiny spark of memory, it feels as if I’m a different person than yesterday. More stable. I hope. I also hope I can find my way to the Great Hall once again. It feels as if I can get through it, as if I can stare at the people who were with me yesterday. Back then I felt awkward, having all those people in the Gryffindor common room, all calling me by my name. Throwing a damn party at me and bringing prohibited booze, 'risking their necks' for me. The friend that doesn't remember them. 

And me there, having no idea who they were, tried to make it up by hearing they call each other, tried to pick up their names from crumbs in their speech.

I _can_ remember them.

I _can_ stop lying to them.

It so weird. Emotions of foreboding and giddiness are all mixed up inside me.

\--LV--

When I stepped into the Great Hall, few of the Gryffindors were at the table. Was it Saturday morning? I caught a mention of something like that from the twins. Uh. Not even the damn day of the weekend I know.

But hey, I just saw it now. I’m kinda like totally talking to myself all this time.

I’m really going nuts.

Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop...

Then Hermione softly smiled at me from our table. She barely managed it, though. We stayed up until early morning in the "Welcome back Harry" party, so she must have got just a few hours sleeping, like me. As I took a seat beside her, I noticed how there were some people looking at me. I looked at them right back, most in the other tables, and most tried to hide their staring. I can totally understand them, probably people falling from the sky is not the most normal thing. But a good thing is: with time they will stop gawking at me all the time. After all, I’m just Harry.

“Hey. Morning, ‘Mione.”

“Good morning, Harry.” She took a sip of whatever she was having. I looked around for some pumpkin juice.

“So, was breaking the rules worth it?” I whispered to her in a conspiratorial tone. She glanced at me, apparently surprised I was breaching the topic with McGonagall right there at breakfast. She looked back towards the Professors' table, looked towards me and gave me an all teeth smile.

“Of course not. I’m afraid I’ll have to report the selling of prohibited drinks to minors during Hogsmeade weekends.”

I nearly spill my drink.

“...Right.” I should have thought so.

“EH?” Seamus turned to us after he obviously overheard our conversation. “Don’t be a snitch! You don’t even _like_ Quidditch!” The other boys laughed.

“I didn’t ask your opinion,” Hermione answered back.

“Ooooooooouch.” Gryffindors around exclaimed in mirth. Seamus just had a big smirk plastered around his face and rolled his eyes. He probably guessed he wasn't the one getting in trouble and resumed a conversation with some Gryffindor boys. Uh.

“But, where is Ron?” I asked, noticing he was nowhere near the Gryffindor table.

“Leave Ron alone. He’s getting the natural body _reactions_ to his own actions.” Hermione wrinkled her brows in disgust. I smirked at her and, even unwillingly, I noticed her eyes are also mischievous. His hangover is bad and he’s not getting spells or tips from Hermione. I kinda feel sorry for him, but after this morning, I don't.

“Right, right.” I shake my head. “So, what are your plans for this afternoon?”

“The library, of course. I must prepare for the exams next year. Look, I made a list...” She rambled on and on and I kinda totally spaced out. “Anyway,” and here Hermione got even _more_ serious, “I founded the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare...”

Ron, please save me. I felt a speech coming up.

Or don't come, Ron, I was saved by _birds_. The speech Hermione had on the tip of her lips went out the window the instant the owls arrived. An _incredible_ amount of owls, in fact, surging into the hall, each one carrying a newspaper. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she pinched her lips. When a newspaper arrived at our table, carefully falling out of an owl's beak,  she left out a gasp. She didn't even object the owl, who was quite thoroughly enjoying the bacon bits all over her plate. 

She read it all, her eyes passing through each word in an outraged manner then back again, rereading it.  I just stared at her. Other students also received the newspaper and were quickly reading it, some even looking at me and back at the paper. Many in the green table laughed out loud. Not few in my table glared at them.

"That foul, lying...!" She glanced at me. At my blank face, her eyes got softer for a second before it shone determination. "You can't believe what this woman wrote about you, Harry."  And she handed me the newspaper.

Just the heading made me nearly pass out.

Me, in the _heading of a newspaper's first page_?

 

_HARRY POTTER BACK: BLESSING OR CURSE?_

_November 1º, 1994_

_As you know very well, my dear readers, Harry Potter disappeared barely over three months ago. In this time, I and my colleagues extensively researched his whereabouts, publishing every single clue we could gather.  And it's not with a little surprise from us that Harry Potter finally came back for the spotlights, in the very same place of his suspicious disappearance, the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I feel, as a journalist, indebted to you and as such, I, unfortunately, must disclose the truth behind his comeback. It's with great sadness that I do so._

_The theory we explained in other editions, which detailed Potter's possible training abroad in secret under Dumbledore's permission, may be wrong._

_Potter appeared after the well-known Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, declared the impromptu student a Champion in the long-awaited Tri-Wizard Tournament, held this year at Hogwarts (for more information on the Champions, see page 28). Not only underage, as is prohibited in this edition of the Tournament, Potter could not possibly have signed himself in the Tournament as the regular students did during the school year._

_I must warn readers that the picture bellow has sensitive content.  As such, it may be viewed only with a wand's flick carefully directed towards the sentence bellow, in order to protect younger readers that may be currently in the surroundings._

_A picture is worth a thousand words._   _This is Potter's appearance after arriving in Hogwarts, on October 31st._

_We all know what this symbol entitles, as formerly written in the Quidditch World Cup's edition. Even i_ _f the Dark Mark in his chest was done without his consent, why would he bear no bruises or health damage?  If it was done by a You-Know-Who's supporter, why would he mark Potter and then release him with no bruises and, as I must horrifyingly point out, with his life? He may have run away from such a captor, yes, although such a situation would have been a huge crime committed towards the Wizarding society, as the authorities wouldn't have seen fit to inform the population of  Potter's possible kidnapping situation._

_Which leaves me with more questions than palpable answers. Was Potter even training abroad, as the rumors inside the Ministry of Magic pointed out? And if he was, what type of training was it?_

_Could Potter be not as light as we had thought?_

_Rita Skeeter_

_Columnist at the Daily Prophet_

I barely finished reading before Hermione grabbed the newspaper again, standing and rushing towards the Great Hall's doors.

"Hermione, where are you going?" She nearly didn't stop before finally turning backward, irate.

"To the owlery, of course. This woman will have a piece of my mind." Before she resumed her pace, I asked:

"What about the library?" She was in such a hurry that I barely caught her words, she already leaving the Great Hall behind.

"I'll meet you there!"

By seeing Hermione, again, rushing from me had only one thing passing through my mind. _And there_ _goes my ticket to the library._  I hope I won't get lost in Hogwarts again.

 

\--LV--

 

I shouldn't have been so optimistic with myself. Once again, "Harry Potter and the Damned Too Large A Castle". I really should write a book and with such a heading about me, I could really make good sellings. I think.

But I'll get in there. Somehow. Someday.

It must be around here.

Somewhere.

It's very embarrassing.

Anyway, if I arrive there before Hermione, I won't have to explain to her what took me that long. Only if I arrive there before her. If not, then I'll have to invent something, like a nasty session of poop--

" _Give me that_!"

I saw two different sights. One of them being the oh-so-holy library I finally found. Yaaay for me. No, yaay is a tad bit gay. I rhymed. It wasn't my intention, but... uh.

The other sight was what made me stop and not reach the library. Yes. After all this sweat and frantic walking trying to find it, I wasn't heading towards the library. Crazy me, right? Right. Thank you, me, for answering such a hard question. The answer I give you is that at the end of a corridor, there was this kid sitting on the ground. No, there's nothing wrong with a kid sitting on the ground, just that people normally don't sit on corridors and-- ah. Some boys were destroying his things.

"Taking pictures. Did you see it, Kevin? How this kid took pictures of us?"

"Oh yes, Miles." And here the boy stepped upon the poor kid's camera. "Very _daring._ " 

I don't know what possessed me to walk towards _them_ instead of the dreamy library, but I couldn't stop my feet before they saw me - I was already too close.

It was this 'Miles' guy who first noticed me. The other one was still scaring the kid, calling him a faggot. At that, I took out my wand and pointed it at them.

I must have a death wish.

"Look, Kevin, look who's here!" Kevin shoot me a grin.

"Oh, the famous _dark_ wizard! What will lil' Potty do? Disappear?"

What do they have against dark wizards? Such prejudice against black people. And I'm not even black!

But even if I was, what weird guys.

"Fuuuh! Vanish!" They snickered at that. They kept glancing at me as if expecting a reaction. I just rolled my eyes at them and looked at the kid, extending my hand. The kid took it eagerly, opening his mouth to say something. Yet the green-clad guys were nearing me, forgetting the kid's camera on the ground.

I point my wand right at one guy's head. They first look amused at me, sacking out their own wands - that's when I started to rightfully panic, as no spell or such came miraculously into my head to save myself.

In the end I didn't need to.

Their eyes widened and glossed over. A chill passed through my spine as both turned on their backs and walked further into the corridor, turning a corner and disappearing from view. I  looked at the kid, trying to grasp what had just happened. He opened his eyes then and seemed confused for a moment, but then he _looked_ at me and...

"Harry! Glad you're back!" He hugged me or, more accurately, pushed the air right out of me.

I still had no idea what was up with those guys.

"I was worried..." When my school robes started getting soaked I panicked out even more. I don't _know_ you further than the soul-hugging the night before. This is _embarrassing_. "But I'm so glad you came back! Yesterday we barely talked and I wanted to thank you so much! Was your training abroad worth it? I hope it was! These months were so scary, there have been attacks from bad wizards and... but you are here!"

"I'm... glad too." He disentangles himself from me and looks expectantly  into my eyes.

"Thank you, just now. You know." Breaking eye contact, this kid went down, inspecting his camera and bringing it closer to him as if sacred. "What a relief! My camera wasn't busted. See, this is a _super_ special camera! I, myself, spelled it! You need to see what I can do. The spell is supposed to show magic hidden from human eyes."

This kid likes to talk.

"Come, come, I need to show you!" He propelled me forward, in the opposite direction of the library.

“Uh, I... actually, I was going to...” ...the library.

Oh no.

Doggy-cute face.

I... must... resist...

Damn it, it’s not as if I need to study that much for this bullshit tournament. No one is really believing I can win losing all the classes I did. And let’s not even count the classes I don’t know (and they don’t know) I lost (from my mind).

Damn my memories. Damn this tournament. Damn language.

Quick, quick - I was going to... “...ask you about it. Sure.” Sorry Hermione.

It wasn't that far from the library, still on the first floor. The kid greeted a portrait of a man wearing silver armor and riding a white horse.

"Hello, Colin."

"Hi, George! Let us enter, please."

"Password accepted." The portrait morphed into a door. Magic is kinda cool. As we entered, a thought passed through my head.

"Did you give him a password just now?"  The kid looked _so excited._

"Yes, it's brilliant, isn't it? The password is 'please'. This way those Slytherins won't have the wits to come up with my password." 

If you say so.

We enter a room so dark  I can't see a thing.

"Oh!" Then the kid, _Colin_ , creates a bright light, a red one, that makes the whole room _seeable_. “Seeeeee? Do you see? This is a room McGonagall just let me use! For club purposes! As in, photography. It's my own darkroom. She said I can blah blah blah...”

I spaced out quite a bit. 

“...right?”

“Oh, oh yes.”

“Then I’ll be back in a bit.”

I just saw him heading towards the door, closing it and leaving me in utter darkness. Flabbergasted. What exactly did I agree to? Just my type of situation. I tried finding the door again. I abrutly halted my steps when my face collided with the spot I was _oh so sure_ the door was seconds before. Should I accept defeat?

Uh. Let's just wait Colin back.

So, I’m a wizard. I must have brains to form some type of light. Right? Right.

Wand out, gathering breath and... 

“OH GREAT LIGHTNESS OF DAY, COME TO ME!” I actually said that out loud. And nothing happened. Why do I even TRY? They must be mistaken. I’m no wizard. Not even a tad. I clean my throat and get my right hand in front of me. Let’s get creative until Colin comes back, then.  _If_ he comes back.

“FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE.” Nothing.

“Oooooh, fiery fire.” Nah. If I’m doing this, then let’s make it more ridiculous.

“Oh great, incredibly majestic ridiculous fire. Cooooome to meeeeee. Come from the fiends, fire...”

OH OH OH SHIT.

Hah. I’m the best wizard ever. Just nearly blew up the room. _And_ me. The vast majority of the room was occupied by a long balcony full of water and, uh, many photographs.

There was even a photograph of me entering the Great Hall with Warrington. Colin is so weird. Anyway, too bad for him - Warrington’s figure is all trembled in the photo. Doesn’t look like a good shot to me. Pity. And of course, me and my closing eyes. Ewww. Colin isn't a very good photographer. And behind me there is this pal--

THERE WAS NO ONE BEHIND ME THEN.

I think.

The photograph fell from my hands. I got barely a good grasp of his face. Curly, dark jet hair. Light eyes if I see correctly. Then, of course, the DAMN PHOTOGRAPH STARTED MOVING.I AM going to write a book about my life in the future. The name would be quite appropriate: “Harry Potter and the Wizarding Freaking Damned Things”. Hah NOW I’m with my eyes open in the photo. Take this, photograph! It’s quite good now that I, at least, am not looking as if I’m going to sneeze. Warrington’s figure wasn’t better, though. It remained all fuzzy.

My heart stopped.

The figure behind myself in the photograph moved his face in my direction. His eyes, before light, were dark red.

Something in me clicked. The memory of my dream, the one person I couldn’t remember the face... I could nearly see, I felt memories passing through my head, wanting to remember me of things that are too important to be forgotten.

That was when my chest contrived.

“Oh, I was forgetting... HARRY!”

Colin let go of two cups of tea, putting them roughly on the ground and came near me.

“Are you alright?”

Am I?

My chest felt as if I would vomit all my organs, the snake thrashing back and forth _inside_ me. I felt the snake. And it moved inside me. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just felt dizzy.” And lost all grasp I had on those memories. FUUCK. "And oh, sorry. I'm really sorry about the photograph. I must have burned it before falling..."

“Oh, that’s too bad. But not a problem. I can still recuperate this burned part. What was that spell again...” He took the photograph from my hands and shut his mouth, staring at it intently. My part was completely burned but the other half, with Warrington, was not.  “Weird. Warrington never appears right in my photos since I spelled the camera. Anyway! I’ll look all over these photographs for spooky things! Did you know? Ghosts can hide, much like a disillusionment. Now I can catch Peeves fooling around with my things! And prove it! He’ll stop messing with me.”

"Right." Who the heck is Peeves. 

Colin showed me quite a few photographs he took this last month around Hogwarts. His enthusiasm and shining eyes were funny to watch. He stumbled over his words with excitement, showing me parts of Hogwarts I hadn't remembered. At least now I'll be able to fake knowing them, thumbs up for you Colin. I also noticed Warrington wasn't the only one with a fuzzy figure in the tons of photos he took and asking about it made Colin go into a rant of technical details behind his camera and how he had to work hard to get the spell right, with the help of his oh so admired Professor McGonagall. I wanted to ask who was behind me when I entered the Great Hall, as he sure must have been a quiet one at least, but I never got much speaking time other than "Yes, you're right," and "Oh, really?"  I won't hold it against Colin though. It's clear he doesn't talk much about his work and now he's having the time of his life. 

When Colin stopped to breathe, I wondered out loud fast enough to ask.

"Have you been to breakfast?"

"No, I wanted to check yesterday's work before. You're right. It's important to take health matters importantly. Oh, Harry, thank you! For worrying this much about my health. I guess I better head there then. You heading too? Great! We could discuss more on..."

"Uh, I'm sorry, Collin, I promised Hermione I would be meeting her now on the library."  His disappointed look wasn't very well concealed, but he soon veiled it with a cheerful atitute and then we both went out the room. And this time I didn't face first into the door.

\--LV--

The green clad ones where giving me a ton of scowls and sneers. The yellow ones sported a look of curiosity or serious wonder, when I sometimes caught a glance of them during my library stay. The ones with blue school robes were asserting of me, as if constantly spying on what I was doing even if when I looked at them, they seemed absorbed by their books. It didn't help the last ones were literally making camp in the library. Did the school let them sleep here? 

Anyway, after taking this much time looking around instead of reading, you can see how much I loved the book I got in a rush after seeing Hermione entering the library after me. She even excused herself for taking that long! And I was the one thinking I would be late. We sat in a huge table at the far end of the library to accomodate the tons of books Hermione got. 

It was sheer bad luck for me to get a catalog from a floriculture. Why, life? Why? I'm too embarassed to go out to pick another book and disturb Hermione's heavy concentration. Well, this book would have to do for a while, just to not make me look like a fool. I skimmed it over, seeing lots and lots of plant pictures and their magical properties (it was 683-pages-long, I counted).  At the far end there was a seal by the Magical Ministry, department of Botany and Magical Plants. Downards a list of magical plants and a seal of approval or denial.  The ones with a denial seal caught my eye the most, they were in a very flashy red.

Rue  Banned by the Ministry.

Birch Allowed for use in wandmaking only.

Willow Allowed for use in wandmaking only.

Holy Allowed for use in wandmaking only.

But hey, that’s just plain wrong. Rue is also used for some diseases and for the evil eye. Also, many wizards think Holy brings good fortune. It wouldn’t be weird to find some wooden crafts made with Holy in many a wizard’s homes.

And once again I remember things.

YAY.

My memory isn't that bad after all. Guess I'll be just getting little peaks for now, but that's okay. This is further confirmation that all is well in the end.

Then I notice Hermione looking up, gasping, and looking at me but not quite seeing me. "I can't believe it! Harry, elves are magical creatures with as many rights as any of us. It's..." Oh Hermione, not now that I just got more memories back. I don't want to be bored yet, so I half-listen to her for a while before getting up. All my patience vanished after Colin.

“I’m gonna pick another book.” She reads the title of the book I got and rolls her eyes. 

"Alright, we can continue where we stopped. You must enter, Harry!"

As I wander around the library looking at the titles, I felt it again. The snake is thrashing _again_ , but not as quickly or vicious. As the explosion inside my body dimmed, I ventured deeper within the library, intent on finding something worth to read.

Uh. Blood ritual, was it? I may find a book on it as well...

“Looking for something, Potter?” It’s the Warrington guy again.

"Yeah, do you know where they got books on blood rituals?"


End file.
